Flamethrower

by Maggie Estep

“What do you want?” he asked.

  “This puppy was in your parking lot.” So?

  “You know this puppy?” Ruby looked down at the dog in her arms. He licked her chin. He was getting heavy, and Ruby rearranged him in her arms.

  “That’s Spike,” the old man said, as if it were obvious.

  “He’s yours?” Ruby asked, resolving to rescue Spike from a life where he was left to his own devices in a parking lot at night.

  “Ain’t nobody’s. Just turned up here a few weeks back. I feed him. Figure he’ll be a good guard dog.”

  Unless he was going to ward off marauders by wagging his tail and licking their hands, Spike wouldn’t make much of a guard dog.

  “I need a dog,” Ruby announced. She figured it was going to cost her, but she didn’t care. The old guy stared at her without saying anything, then shrugged.

  “Well, you got one,” he said.

  Ruby was ready for an argument and was stunned not to get one.

  “Seems to like you,” the old man shrugged, “and I don’t guess he’d make such a good guard dog, what with licking people like he does.”

  Ruby saw a flicker of tenderness come into the old man. It was as touching as it was unexpected. The old man got to his feet, opened a gray steel cabinet, and pulled out a bag of kibble.

  “Here.” He proffered the bag. “He’ll be wanting breakfast in the morning.”

  Ruby put Spike down on the floor and took the bag.

  “Thank you,” she said, still waiting for the other shoe to drop.

  “What are you gonna name him?” the old man asked.

  “Nothing wrong with Spike,” Ruby said.

  The old man beamed. “He’s gonna be a big one, you know,” the old guy said, reaching down and grabbing one of Spike’s paws. “Hundred pounds or so. Looks like he’s got some Rhodesian ridgeback in him and maybe some Great Dane too.”

  Ruby nodded. Spike looked nothing like a Great Dane, but the last thing she wanted was to argue with the old guy.

  “Well.” Ruby wanted to get back to her room before the old man reverted to his earlier crankiness. “Good night,” she said, turning and walking out of the office.

  Spike happily trotted next to Ruby, and when she opened the door, he jumped onto the bed and curled into a ball. Ruby had no idea if Spike was house-trained but figured she’d find out soon enough.

  She stripped off her clothing and got under the covers without even brushing her teeth. She looked at Spike one more time before closing her eyes. He lifted his head and thumped his tail. She closed her eyes and fell into a dreamless sleep.

  16. SHOT

  It took Ruby a few minutes to remember where she was and why there was a dog in the bed. She stumbled into the bathroom to pee, and Spike followed, tilting his head, trying to figure out what she was doing.

  Ruby brushed her teeth, threw water on her face, and let Spike out onto the grassy area in front of her room. The pup spun around in a few tight circles and immediately took care of business.

  Ten minutes later, Ruby had repacked her overnight bag and was ready to go. She put Spike in the backseat of the Mustang, but as soon as she pulled out of the parking space, the dog scrambled into the front and settled into the passenger seat, maintaining eye contact with Ruby as he did, making a statement.

  “Okay, fair enough,” Ruby said.

  Spike tilted his head.

  Ruby made a right out of the motel driveway, heading for the town of Trout Falls, where she hoped to find a diner. She needed coffee, and Spike needed food since she wasn’t about to feed him the by-product-infested kibble the old man had given her.

  Main Street, Trout Falls, was lined with wood-frame houses that looked as though they’d been built in the 1940s. Humble houses with plastic furniture and swing sets on front lawns. The town consisted of a decrepit five-and-dime, a gas station, a police station, and The Main Diner, a 1950s-looking silver diner. The parking lot was almost full. Either the place was good or, more likely, it was the only diner in town.

  Spike tried to jump out when Ruby opened the car door, but she gently pushed him back and told him to stay. She wasn’t sure he understood the specific command, but he got the general idea and settled back into the passenger seat after giving her a wounded look.

  Either Ruby looked like shit, or Trout Falls was such a small town that residents weren’t used to strangers coming into the diner. Everyone stared. As much as she sometimes loathed New York, Ruby liked the anonymity it conferred. This small-town stuff was nerve-racking.

  She walked up to the counter to put in an order to go.

  “What do you need, sugar?” asked a wrinkly peroxide-blond waitress who looked like a cigarette.

  Ruby liked that the woman called her “sugar.”

  “Large coffee, scrambled eggs on a roll, and two burgers very rare with no buns.”

  “Coming right up, doll,” the waitress said, as if perfectly used to people ordering two rare burgers with their morning egg sandwich.

  Ruby settled onto one of the stools at the counter. To her left was a big man in a John Deere cap hunched over a plate of sausage and eggs. He didn’t look at her, but Ruby sensed that he was aware of her. To Ruby’s right was a small man nervously pushing his eggs around on his plate. He was also wearing a John Deere cap, the brim of which was pulled down to his nose, making Ruby wonder how he could see the cup of coffee in front of him.

  “Food’s ready, sugar,” the waitress said after a short wait.

  “Where’s the nearest pet store?” Ruby asked the waitress when she handed Ruby her order. “I need to get my dog a collar.”

  “What kind of dog?” the waitress asked, getting that beatific animal-lover look on her face.

  “Puppy. Mutt probably. Rhodesian ridgeback looking.”

  “You mean Spike from the motel?”

  “Yeah,” Ruby said, astonished.

  “I tried getting that old grouch to give the dog to my niece, but he wouldn’t. Musta liked you.”

  “Really?” Ruby was incredulous. If the old guy’s treatment of her was from liking, she hated to think how he acted when he disliked someone.

  “You got a nice face, sugar. I’m sure people like you,” said the waitress.

  Ruby smiled. She’d beg to differ, but she didn’t want to be rude.

  “There’s a Pet Mart about a mile down the road, little strip mall there. You can get everything you need. Here you go.” She handed Ruby her bag of food. “Pay at the counter.”

  Ruby went to the counter and, as the cashier rang up her bill, helped herself to some after-dinner mints from the big bowl next to the cash register.

  “Have a nice day,” the cashier said.

  Ruby went back to the car, broke the burgers into small pieces, and fed Spike in the take-out container. The puppy ate the burger bits in four mouthfuls then looked at Ruby as though he was ready for seconds.

  “Later,” said Ruby. Spike spun around in a circle then plopped down in the passenger seat.

  Ruby made a right onto Main Street and, after a mile, found the pet store. She carried Spike in with her since she didn’t want him trotting loose through the parking lot.

  “Cute!” exclaimed a girl at the counter inside. She was a tiny Goth-looking girl with dyed black hair. Ruby hadn’t realized Goth girls existed in places like Trout Falls.

  The Goth girl, who immediately told Ruby she was a vegan and didn’t believe in leather dog collars, helped Ruby select an attractive red nylon collar with a matching lead.

  “You live around here?” the girl asked as Ruby paid for her purchases.

  “No, just visiting.”

  “Why?”

  Ruby laughed. “It’s pretty around here.”

  The girl wrinkled her nose.

  After putting Spike’s new lead and collar on, Ruby walked the dog around the grassy fringe of the pet store parking lot. He sniffed a lot and peed a little before jumping back into the car.

  Ruby pored over her vario
us MapQuest printouts, running her finger along the route to Jody’s house. Her stomach was in knots at the prospect of finding and confronting The Psychiatrist. Ruby had spent most of her life avoiding confrontations. She’d almost never fought with her parents, sister, or lovers. If there was friction, Ruby left. Even as a small child, when Ruby’s parents had been upset with her or tried to make her do something she didn’t want to do, she’d disappear, losing herself in the streets of Sunset Park as early as age five. Ruby’s flight response had become a sore point with Ed. Rather than telling him when something was bothering her, she’d clam up or, in extreme situations, leave the apartment without a word. Ed hated this. Ruby had been trying to reform her ways— until Ed flipped out and started needing space, that is.

  Ruby steered the Mustang out of the parking lot. Another five miles and she’d be looking for Maddox Road, where Jody’s cabin was. Along the sides of the road, frame houses gave way to meadows and woods. There were fenced-in pastures where horses and cattle grazed.

  The meadows hugging the sides of the road surrendered to dense trees, and Ruby slowed down. She found Maddox Road on her left and made the turn. It was a narrow two-lane road badly in need of paving. The trees grew denser and the sky was nearly shut out. The road rolled up and down several hills before Ruby saw what she hoped was Jody’s driveway on her right. There weren’t names or numbers on either of the mailboxes, but Ruby had gone the one point six miles Map-Quest wanted her to go. She slowly nosed the Mustang up the unpaved driveway. Spike started looking all around, sensing that they were arriving somewhere. After half a mile, Ruby saw a bright blue house on the left. An enormous woman in a pink housedress was sitting in a rocker on the front porch.

  Ruby stopped the car and leaned out the window.

  “Hi, I’m looking for Jody?” Ruby tried to sound cheerful.

  The woman fanned herself with a magazine and squinted at Ruby. “She ain’t here,” she said.

  “This is her house though?” Ruby asked, wondering if the large woman was a patient that Jody had, for mysterious reasons, brought along for the ride.

  “Nah, next one down. Little white house. Like I said though, she ain’t there. Saw her and that boy driving out a few nights ago, and they ain’t been back.”

  “I guess I’ll go on over to her house just to check.”

  “I may be fat, but I ain’t blind,” the woman said. “Jody ain’t there.”

  “Thanks,” Ruby said. “I just want to see the house. Maybe leave her a note.”

  The woman shrugged and rested her head on the back of her chair.

  Ruby drove forward and, about a hundred yards down the road, came to the little white house. She got out, and Spike bounded out of the car and raced ahead into the shrubs surrounding the house.

  “Spike!” Ruby panicked, imagining the dog disappearing into the forest and getting devoured by bears.

  Spike emerged from the bushes, shook himself off, and looked at Ruby as though she was insane.

  “Don’t run off like that,” she said. He tilted his head. “Stop being cute,” she added.

  Ruby knocked at the front door, softly at first, then adding a little force to it. Jody might have come back without the large neighbor’s noticing. No one answered though. Ruby peered in the windows. There was a small kitchen with quaint 1950s appliances. The counters and sink were crammed with dishes.

  Ruby tried the doorknob. It was locked but flimsy. She took out her bank card and did the honors. Utterly effortless. Spike trotted ahead into the little house. The garbage container was overflowing with empty cans, eggshells, and Styrofoam containers congealed with meat. Ruby had always thought of Jody as a tidy individual yet here she was breeding varmints in her kitchen. Ruby walked from the kitchen into the living room, calling out “Hello?” Nothing.

  The mess was nauseating, and Ruby was starting to think her psychiatrist couldn’t possibly live here when she noticed the elegant yellow purse on the kitchen table. Ruby had seen this purse a dozen times. She’d always admired its modishness even though she would have felt like a drag queen carrying such a purse. She contemplated the sacrilegious-seeming act of looking inside the purse and was about to open the clasp when she heard Spike knock something over in the living room. She went to see what the dog had gotten into. Clothes, luggage, and take-out containers were strewn all over the floor, and Spike was gnawing on the remains of a rotted roast chicken.

  “You can’t have that.” Ruby tentatively tugged on the chicken. She didn’t know if Spike had any food aggression. He let go without growling and stared at Ruby sadly as she put the rancid carcass into the kitchen garbage can.

  Ruby went back to the living room. There were two crusted dinner plates on the wood table. An empty beer bottle. A full ashtray. Socks. It didn’t quite make sense. She remembered Jody’s apartment being spare and clean. Maybe Jody was completely unraveling, and a latent filthy streak was revealing itself after years of suppression.

  There was a narrow wooden staircase at the far end of the living room, and Ruby climbed up to the second floor. There was a bathroom at the top of the stairs, and the rest of the floor was one open room serving as a bedroom. There were snarled bedsheets, two half-empty coffee mugs, a pair of red panties.

  As Ruby went into the bathroom to explore the medicine cabinet, Spike came running up the stairs. The puppy rushed over to Ruby then started licking her hands and wiggling furiously, as if he hadn’t seen her in years. Ruby laughed. Decided she might have completely lost her mind by now if it weren’t for the dog. It hadn’t even been a full day, and already she felt she couldn’t live without him.

  The medicine cabinet held only a bottle of ibuprofen and an ancient-looking dental floss dispenser. The strangest thing in the bathroom was the shower curtain. A clear plastic number with little pockets containing translucent plastic fish. Ruby never would have thought Jody whimsical enough to buy a fish-motif shower curtain. Frivolous household items were the sort of thing she and Jody had occasionally discussed during lulls in sessions when Jody had urged Ruby to speak—to say Whatever comes to mind, Ruby—and Ruby had volunteered some triviality, like having bought vivid pink flannel bedsheets on sale at Bloomingdale’s. Never in the course of these mundane chats had Jody Ray admitted to a penchant for whimsical shower curtains.

  Spike trotted after Ruby as she headed back down the stairs and into the kitchen. She picked Jody’s yellow purse up off the table and opened it. Nothing but a packet of Kleenex. She turned the purse upside down, spilling out dimes, pennies, and half a roll of cherry LifeSavers.

  Ruby sat down at the kitchen table. There was a Home Depot receipt inside an empty fruit bowl. Someone had bought plants and gardening tools. Ruby hadn’t thought to look at the garden.

  She didn’t want to lose Spike in the shrubbery again, so she left him in the house while she went to poke around outside. She walked to the back, where a little garden area was fenced off against deer. A shovel was wedged into the ground. Ruby stared at the tomato plants, trying to envision her elegant psychiatrist digging around in the dirt. It didn’t add up.

  Ruby walked back around the side of the house and to the front. A blue car was parked next to the Mustang, and Ruby’s heart did a few somersaults before she realized that it was not the Honda and that the large neighbor from down the road was standing at the front door.

  “Hiya,” said the woman. “Just seeing what you’re up to here.” She was narrowing her eyes at Ruby.

  “Door was open. I’m just looking around,” Ruby said.

  The large woman obviously didn’t believe her.

  “Do you want to come in?” Ruby asked.

  “You’re inviting me in? Ain’t even your house.”

  “That’s true. But I have a right to be here.”

  “How’s that?”

  “Jody’s husband asked me to come look for her. He couldn’t come look for her himself. He’s sick,” Ruby said.

  “And he couldn’t just call her?”
<
br />   “They had a little fight. She wouldn’t answer his calls.”

  “Huh,” said the woman. “And you’re a friend of the family?”

  “Yes. Why don’t you come in,” Ruby reiterated her offer. She wanted the woman to see that she wasn’t up to anything nefarious.

  The woman grunted and followed her inside.

  Spike was at the door, wiggling. He tried to lick the big woman’s hands, but she squealed and moved out of the way a whole lot faster than Ruby would have guessed she could move.

  “He doesn’t bite,” Ruby said.

  “I don’t like dog drool,” said the woman. She was standing in the archway between the kitchen and the living room, wiping her wet hand on her dress.

  Ruby was offended on Spike’s behalf. She picked him up so he wouldn’t further violate the big woman.

  “You don’t think Jody’s dead, do you?” the woman asked out of the blue. She was still standing under the archway, still wiping her hand on her dress.

  “What?”

  “She didn’t look good the other day. She sick or something?”

  “No, of course not.”

  “Okay,” the woman shrugged, “I’m just trying to help.”

  Ruby said nothing. Spike was already getting heavy, so she put him down. He instantly trotted over to the big woman, sat, and stared up at her.

  “My husband looked kind of funny and gray about a week before he dropped dead,” the woman said, ignoring Spike. “Name’s Dolly, by the way.” She suddenly seemed to warm to Ruby. She took a few steps toward her and extended her hand.

  “Ruby,” said Ruby, shaking the hand. Ruby hated people with weak handshakes, and her estimation of Jody’s large neighbor improved when Dolly gripped Ruby’s hand firmly.

  “Jody looked ill?”

  “I dunno really. I’m just saying she was kinda gray looking same as Gil, my husband. Turned out he had a big of clot in his brain. One night he’s lying on the couch eating chips and watching TV. I go into the kitchen to get some juice. I come back. Boom, he’s dead. I knew right away he was dead. Just one look at him. Death is funny that way—how you know it right off.”